The Third Camp
by PercabEmily7
Summary: Kyle doesn't know what the heck's going on. When his best friend, Sam, shows up with their teacher telling him to come on, he has no choice but to follow, and run away from the mysterious 'demigods' chasing them. His questions continue when he shows up at a camp that is apparently for people that are different, and they offer him a quest. He has one big problem, though: dreams.
1. Prologue

Percy Jackson had a choice to make.

He had been on a date with Annabeth in Times Square. They were gazing up at the sites with awe and wonder. It had been years since the Giant War and their falling into Tartarus, but they were both still scarred.

"The architecture is so amazing!" Annabeth was saying. "I mean, look at the . . ."

Percy wasn't really listening, but he nodded along, looking at her face. Her features lit up in joy whenever she talked about architecture. It was mid-January, so there was a light snowfall all around them. The flakes landed in her hair and sparkled in the light of the afternoon. Her breath danced in the air when she exhaled.

"Uh, Annabeth?" he said, interrupting her.

"Yes, Percy?" she said.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. They were right in front of the red steps or whatever they're called. Percy didn't care. It was perfect.

He got down on one knee. Several people stopped and gasped, looking at him with 'awws'.

Annabeth had also been one of the ones to gasp. "Percy . . ."

"Look, I don't want to spend my life with anyone but you. You light up my world." (Cue the 'awwwws') "Please, would you" ( he took out the ring) "do me the honor of being my-"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

This scream was not Annabeth's. No, this was a scream of terror from within the crowd.

Percy cursed. _Out of all the days for there to be a monster attack,_ this _had to be the day._

Annabeth stopped gaping and pulled out her sword. "Go!" she yelled at him.

They both ran in the direction of the scream.

When they got there, Percy was even more annoyed.

Some giant guy (not big enough to be a giant or a titan, but maybe a god) was terrorizing everyone. The mortals probably just saw a large bird or something.

Percy uncapped Riptide. "What do you want?!" he screamed.

When he saw them, he gave a wicked grin. "Ah, Perseus Jackson. Finally."

"Who are you?" he yelled.

He chuckled. "I am the god of choices. And the Fates have decreed that you are to be given a choice."

Percy scowled. He didn't like the sound of that. "What choice?" he demanded.

"Oh, that's simple." The god snapped his fingers. Suddenly Annabeth wasn't next to him anymore.

"PERCY!" he heard from behind him.

It was Annabeth, and suddenly he was twelve years old again.

She was on the position his mother had been in all those years ago: in the Minotaur's grasp, kicking an screaming. At least she was being squeezed around her chest rather than her neck, but she was still in a lot of danger.

"What did you do?!" he screamed at the god.

He chuckled. "Me? I just made it easier for you to make your choice."

He relaxed, but only slightly. Maybe it wouldn't involve Annabeth. Maybe she was just being held so he wouldn't run away.

"What is my choice?" he said fiercely.

The god laughed. "Your choice is this: the girl dies, or you forget that you ever met her."

Percy's heart shattered into a million pieces.

The Fates were _so_ _cruel_. He had saved the world twice, and they were going to take away his pride and joy.

He wished he could say that he was surprised.

He finally found the courage to speak. "Will . . . will she remember?"

More laughter. "Yes. She will remember you - and your choice. And she will never be able to find you. She will suffer. She will spend the rest of her life trying to find you, but she will _never_ find you. You will be a normal mortal, with a different background, and a different name, and a different scent. Everyone you knew will remember you, but you will forget that you knew them. But the girl will live, and everyone will remember you.

"If you chose the other option, you will remember her. But she will be _gone_. Gone forever. You can return to all of your other little friends, and you can tell them how _you_ killed your pride and joy."

Percy was shattered.

He knew what he had to do. He just didn't know if he had the strength to do it.

It was his fatal flaw.

He turned towards Annabeth. "Would you have said yes?" he asked her quietly.

Even in their predicament, she looked annoyed. "Percy, I hardly think this is the time-"

"WOULD YOU HAVE SAID YES?" he screamed.

"YES!" she screamed back, bursting into tears. "Of _course_ I would have. Percy, please. Don't do this. You can't forget about camp. Or me. I would rather be dead than without you. Please, Percy. We'll fall apart without you."

Percy shook his head. "I have to, Annabeth. I know I'll fall apart without you."

A single, silent tear dripped down his face as he turned back to the god.

"Percy, stop!" he heard her cry.

"I choose to forget everything," he said.

"PERCY, NO!"

The god laughed. "Excellent!"

"PERCY!"

He turned towards her as the Minotaur let her go, and she collapsed onto the ground, coughing and sputtering. His vision was starting to turn black.

"PERCY!" she yelled again, running towards him. She caught him as his knees buckled. She set him on the ground and sat down. She rested his head in her lap.

"Percy . . ."

"Hey, I'll be alright. Just-" He started coughing. "Just down forget me, okay?"

"Percy, I could never forget you."

"Then I'll never forget you. I swear it on the Styx."

"Never?" Her voice was barely audible.

"Never."

And everything went black.

* * *

 **957 words. Not bad for a one-shot.**

 **Tell me what you thought in the reviews. I almost cried, and I wrote the dam thing.**

 **Anyway, I might make this into a story. It depends on how many people like this.**

 **And by like, I mean tell me to go jump in Tartarus or something. I always love flattery.**

 **Anyways, check out my main book: Dead Demigods. I think it's coming along nicely.**

 **Goodbye, loyal readers!**


	2. Chapter 1

My name is Kyle Quill.

I'm 15 years old.

I go to Fairwood High School in western Ohio.

I know. Seems pretty boring. It is.

I'm a sophomore with dyslexia and ADHD. It makes class a living hell.

Of course, there is my best friend, Sam Yancy. She's awesome. Her full name is Samantha, but _don't_ call her that. If you do, you will get a mouth full of dirt after she pushes you to the ground. Trust me. I've done it.

Anyway, school is torture. I can't believe I have to sit through useless classes such as math. I'm never going to use math. Ever. I can hardly read it. How am I supposed to make a career out of it?

The only class I remotely excel is Greek. And I don't know where I'll use that in real life. It's more useless than math.

Anyway, I really enjoy my after school activities. On Mondays and Wednesday's I have gardening with Sam. We're both freaky good at it, for some reason.

On Tuesdays I have swimming. I'm the best in the school. Don't ask me how that happened. I have no idea, but I do have some muscles. I'm tougher than I look.

Then (this is the part that throws everyone else off) I have workshop on Friday. I love making things. The heat of the workshop never really bothers me.

The only reason I try in class is so that I can keep being in my programs. It would kill me to have to leave. That, and I do _not_ want to repeat a year.

I was walking to my locker with Sam. It was a normal Monday, and I was tired and cranky, as per usual. She was telling me to lighten up.

"Come on, we both have Greek with Mrs. Fuln today!" Sam was saying.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well I have math with Mr. Porch first period."

She winced. "Oh. That's not good for you."

"Nope," I said, popping the 'p'.

Mr. Porch, the bane of our existence. He was short, had curly hair, and always wore baggy pants. He was evil. On top of our dyslexia (we both had it), this guy was awful. He gave us both a hard time in class and gave us detention for fun.

The other kids loved him. We hated him.

Then warning bell rang, and Sam waved. "Have fun in Porch's!"

"I will," I muttered sarcastically.

I ran through the halls. I would miss Gardening if I was late.

* * *

After an hour of torture, I finally collapsed into Mrs. Fuln's room.

Sam laughed next to me. "Did you have a nice nap?"

I wasn't amused. "Don't laugh. You have him fifth period."

"Ugh. Don't remind me."

"Good morning, class!" a perky voice rang out.

In stepped my favorite teacher ever. She had pale skin and red hair, and she almost resembled a vampire. But she was really nice to me and Sam, and super forgiving when it came to our dyslexia.

The other kids called her evil, and absolutely loathed her, but we loved her.

* * *

After seven more hours of torture, I was finally in gardening class with Sam.

"Need help?" I said, reaching up to the top of the shelf to help her get her spade.

I could've sworn she had blushed, but she looked away.

She had light brown hair, like mine. But instead of sea-green eyes, like mine, she had startling forest-green eyes. Her skin was tan, and she was relatively pretty.

Even I could tell that she had a crush on me.

But she wasn't my type. I knew my type, and I knew there was someone out there for me.

"Hey, you coming?" I heard Sam say, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah, you bet!"

Gardening was fun. I threw dirt at people I didn't like. Sam laughed. I had surprisingly good aim. The flowers always bloomed more for us. It was weird. But we didn't care.

Afterwards, the club had an ice cream party, but I had to leave. My mom was picking me up.

A word about my mother, before you meet her.

She's not that nice. I know, I should love my mother, yada, yada, yada. She's done so much for me, blah, blah, blah. But she just has this grudge against me for some reason. I can see it in the way she looks at me.

My father is dead. She isn't too happy about that, but I never even knew him.

She honked her horn three times while I was going to the car. She's usually more patient. Like, freaky patient.

For some reason that I am not aware of, my mother and I are both freaky patient. We can focus on things for hours (not that I like to). Now that I think about it, so is Sam.

But she wasn't patient today. Today was the day of the big presentation.

After a silent car ride, one that I was not very interested in, we arrived at the community park. My mother had to arrive early since she was giving the presentation, but Sam was coming later. I didn't even know what it was about. I honestly didn't care.

She was talking with a few people, so I went to climb a tree.

I know. A fifteen year old boy climbing a tree? Really weird. But I love it. Aside from swimming, it's the one place I can think. That, and the forge.

The branches just seem to be exactly where I need them to be. I can't explain it. I just go with it.

"Kyle!" The shrill voice of my mother cut through the peaceful afternoon.

I sighed. "Coming!"

* * *

I was sitting in the audience, and I had taken my shoes off so my feet could touch the soft soil beneath me. Mother would kill me if she knew I had my shoes off, but I didn't care.

Sam didn't show up. I was really sad, but mostly ticked off. What kind of friend just leaves there friend at a boring meeting with their crazy mother?

Just then, a shattering sound erupted from behind me. All heads whipped around. And I couldn't believe what I saw.

It was Mrs. Fuln, but she wasn't Mrs. Fuln. Her hair was twisting around her head, emitting an orange glow. Her legs were really off. It was like she had two pant legs on: one shaggy, one mechanical.

If that wasn't weird enough, Sam was right next to her, and she was yelling at me to come on. Now that I thought about it, so was Mrs. Fuln.

And the weirdness continued when a shattering broke out on stage. It was Mr. Porch, but his pants were both shaggy carpets. At least he had shed the baggy pants for shaggy pants.

He was calling my name, too.

I looked at Mrs. Fuln and Sam, and back at Mr. Porch.

"You need to come with me! Your friend smells like a monster!" Mr. Porch was telling me.

"You may smell like a half-blood," Mrs. Fuln was saying (what the heck was that), "but you also smell like one of us!"

"Don't listen to her! She's a monster!" Mr. Shag Leg said. "Leave them both! You'll be safer with me!"

I looked at him, and looked at the other two.

I looked into Sam's eyes. I knew what I had to do.

I went with my friend.

* * *

 **1,294 words. Meh.**

 **So I hope you liked it!**

 **Be sure to leave a review!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hello! New chapter!**

 **Thank you to anyone that reviewed!**

 **Sibyis Langdon: A) who the heck is Alex and B) if you meant Kyle then no dip Sherlock**

 **I own no Percies. Especially Rick's Percy.**

* * *

After I had gotten over the fact that my teacher was an actual vampire, and that I had stood up for her almost everyday saying that she wasn't one, I had the courage to speak.

"What the heck just happened?"

We were running through the heat-filled corn fields of Ohio, getting away from I-didn't-know-what. I was still barefoot, so there should have been a bunch of stuff buried in my feet, but I kept stepping on really soft dirt.

"I have no idea!" Sam shouted over the rustling of the corn.

"What?!" I shouted, shocked. I had assumed that she had at least talked to Mrs. Fuln beforehand.

"She told me to trust her! So I did!" she yelled back.

Well, she was our favorite teacher. I would have trusted her, especially between her and Mr. Porch, of all people.

"Keep quiet!" Mrs. Fuln shouted at us.

I still couldn't wrap my mind around her. She had one mechanical leg, one goat leg, and one mane of fire hair. Her skin was pale, and I could have sworn I had seen fangs. It freaked me out.

"What's going on? What's following us?" I asked, a bit quieter.

"Demigods," she said with disgust.

Suddenly I got a very bad headache. I clamped my head in my hands

"Kyle!" Sam shouted.

I grunted as it subsided. "I'm okay."

We stopped running for a moment.

"What are demigods?" Sam asked.

Suddenly, a silver arrow implanted itself into the corn plant next to her head.

"Ummm. . ." I said, a bit shell shocked.

Mrs. Fuln cursed in Greek. Only later would I realize that I had understood her completely. "It _had_ to be the hunters."

Suddenly we were surrounded by about a dozen girls in silver camo jackets, the color exactly like the arrow that had been shot at Sam.

A girl that looked to be about fourteen stepped forward. She had a silver crown that was on top of her spiky black hair. Her eyes were an electric blue. Just looking at her made my head throb like crazy.

"Let him go, Kelli!" she shouted.

That name gave me another headache. Because sure. Why not?

"Let him go? The boy is one of us! You can tell that to your little minion Hedge, as well," Mrs. Fuln, now apparently Kelli, spat.

"He isn't one of you! He smells like a half blood! It's faint, but we've sensed it!" the girl shouted back.

Mrs. F- _Kelli_ laughed. "His smell is faintly half blood, yes. But the scent of us is much more prominent."

A girl that looked about to be about 22 came forward. She was the oldest in the group, but I got the feeling that the girl with the tiara was in charge, at that this girl was relatively new. Her head was covered in a hood, but her eyes were storm grey.

I got another headache. This time, though, it was so bad that I pressed my hand to my head, like Harry Potter did whenever Voldemort was close by.

"Kyle!" Sam said, about to run over to me.

But the girl in the hood had other ideas. "Silence, monster!" She aimed a bow at her, and her hood fell.

I held in a gasp. Her blonde, curly hair was up in a high ponytail. She had a california tan, and she looked fierce and vicious.

But it couldn't be. . .

"Quit staring!" the black haired girl spat.

"It's okay, Thalia," she said. So that was her name. The blonde looked back at me. "So, you can go with them and get yourself killed, or you can come with us."

The girl called Thalia held out her hand.

I looked over at Kelli and Sam. Both of their eyes were alive with fear.

I turned back to Thalia. "No."

She ripped away her hand. "Fine. You chose death."

Next to me, the girl with the bow let go, and the arrow set straight at Sam.

"NO!" I shouted.

I can't explain what happened next.

This was the freakiest thing that had happened all day. Not the goat legs or the fire hair. Or the group of young girls that looked ready to murder. No, this was a completely different kind of weird.

Everyone froze, as if stopped in time.

I could move freely, but I couldn't believe it. Nothing was really making sense at that point, so I did the only thing that was logical.

I walked up to the airborne arrow, took it out from its place, and walked back to where I was.

It was if someone had pressed play. They didn't seem to realize that anything had happened, or that the arrow was missing. Then Sam said something.

"Shouldn't I be dead?"

Thalia came out of a trance-like state. She looked around in confusion. "Where's the arrow?"

"Looking for this?" I said, holding it up.

The blonde girl looked shocked. "How . . . you . . . arrow . . ."

"Leave!" I told them. "We didn't do anything to you!"

They looked reluctant. The blonde looked like she was going to go into a long, elaborate backstory, but I didn't really want to hear it.

"If you chose death, that's fine with me," said the mysterious blonde.

And they took off without another word.

"Those are demigods," Kelli said. "They kill monsters like me."

"Are - are we monsters?" Sam asked, a bit frightened.

"No, dear," Kelli said with a smile. "You two are demititans."

 _Demititans_.

That word, for some reason, repulsed me to the core. I didn't know why.

"We're _what_?" I asked.

"A demititan is someone with one mortal parent and one immortal parent."

She explained to us that the gods and titans from Greek mythology were real, and that we were part of their bloodline. They were now living in America, or rather, should be. Apparently they were in Tartarus and other assorted prisons.

It seemed crazy.

"Who's my parent?" Sam asked. She didn't seem the least bit confused that titans _existed_ , much less shared her blood.

I didn't understand why, but I believed her: they were real. It just seemed right, like I had known my whole life.

"Your parent?" Kelli asked, amused. "I know that. I have spoken with your father about it. And you," she said, looking at me, "you are not like Sam."

"What?" I asked, bewildered.

"No. You are a legacy. Your mother was a demititan, and your father . . . . Well, we'll talk about him when we get there."

"Where?" Sam and I asked at the same time.

Kelli chuckled. "Camp Ouranos."


End file.
